| In the beginning, there were answers
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| Then they came along and changed
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| All these questions and their answers seemed to change
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| So I’ll wait 'til I find the remote part of your heart
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| When Nowhere else will let us choose a comfortable start
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| We stop in every passing place
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| To watch the world move faster than we do
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| Watch it pass with our eyes closed the way we usually choose to
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| So I’ll wait 'til I find the remote part of your heart
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| When nowhere else will let us choose a comfortable start
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| And even if the breath between us smells of alcohol
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| We call it confusion in the best way possible
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| It isn’t in the mirror
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| It isn’t on the page
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| It’s a red hearted vibration
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| Pushing through the walls of dark imagination
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| Finding no equation
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| Theres a red road rage
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| But it’s not road rage
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| It’s asylum seekers engulfed by a grudge
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| Scottish friction, Scottish fiction
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| It isn’t in the castle, it isn’t in the mist
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| It’s a calling of the waters as they break to show
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| The new black death with reactors aglow
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| You think your security
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| Can keep you in purity
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| You will not shake us off
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| Above or below
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| Scottish friction, Scottish fiction |